Graveside Visit
by OldSFfan
Summary: Many years after the end of the series, time is growing short for Wilson, but he makes time to visit his best friend.


This plotless little story is not intended to violate the copyrights of the owners of House and Wilson. The story was running around in my head and it wanted to be written down. The time is about 30 years after "Everybody Dies." Bobby Cuddy-House, Fiona Buchanan Wilson, Daniel Wilson, and Rebecca Wilson are original characters.

Graveside Visit

Doctor James Wilson was grateful for his daughter's arm around his arm as he walked over the uneven grass in the cemetery. He stopped in front of the grave and patted her hand. The lawn and shrubs were practically steaming in the morning sun. The well-tended landscape smelled wet and clean. "Thanks, Becky. I'll just be a few minutes." Laboriously, he settled himself to sit cross-legged facing the grave with his back to an empty plot.

"Dad, the ground is still wet from the rain last night. Maybe you shouldn't…"

"I'll be all right. It's warm this morning."

She nodded reluctantly and walked a short distance away to give him some privacy. Wilson shifted to try to get comfortable. He was so thin that his bones seemed to press through his skin into the cool, damp ground. He looked at the brown granite headstone. "Hello, House," he said. He reached into his shirt pocket for a pebble from Fiona's garden and placed it at the base of the headstone. "It's been a few weeks since I visited."

He shifted again, trying to get comfortable. "I wanted to tell you how everyone is doing. Probably, I won't be able to visit again." He let his fingers stroke the grass near the stone. "Cuddy is okay. She's keeping busy with your granddaughter, and she is planning to go on a walking tour in England this fall. I told you that Rachel was pregnant again, didn't I? About eight weeks along. Fancy new tests, they know already it will be a boy this time. You'll have a grandson. Rachel is so organized, she's already arranged turning over her practice to her assistant while she's on maternity leave. You know, she loves pediatrics. I guess she just wasn't cut out to go into diagnostics. But then, my daughter didn't want anything to do with oncology."

Wilson looked around the quiet cemetery. It wasn't a bad place, to spend eternity. A tall maple cast some welcome shade on the grass. House's grave, in a space to be shared with with Cuddy when her time came, was near the joint plot waiting for him and Fiona. He'd be in it soon enough. Fiona was ten years younger than Wilson, and he hoped it would be a long time before she joined him there.

He looked back at House's headstone. "Your Bobby is doing great, though I notice he's referring to himself as Bob these days. He's finishing the final draft of his dissertation. It looks like Cornell is going to offer him a tenure-track position in their school of agriculture. And he's looking more and more like you. Sometimes I have to catch myself, thinking it's you, when I see him out of the corner of my eye, especially since he's been sporting a scruff like yours. He's met a nice girl. Somehow none of us are surprised she's a med student. She's petite, like Cuddy, and does yoga, too."

Wilson patted the grass on House's grave again. "Who am I kidding? Yeah, Cuddy is functioning, but she misses you so much. We never hear that big laugh of hers since you're gone. She's kept your bed, but she mentioned to Fiona the other day that she never sleeps on your side of it, as if you still slept there. And Rachel told me how sorry she is that you won't be there to meet your grandson. At least you knew your granddaughter. I know Bobby will miss having you there when he receives his doctorate this December."

"My kids are fine," he went on. "Rebecca helped me come to visit you this morning. I can't get around by myself very well now. She's finishing her residency and looking for a family practice to join. Daniel received his Coast Guard commission a few weeks ago. It's funny, Rachel was obsessed with pirates, but it's my son who is going to have a career involved with the ocean. But then, that's not so strange, when you consider his mother's field of study. Fiona was scheduled to work on a beach preservation project on Cape Cod this summer, but of course, she doesn't want to be away from me, until, well, until."

His eyes were wet. He was sorry he would be leaving his family soon. "Chase has been coming by to help Fiona out, taking care of me," he told House. "Cameron has too. Your old network still works. I know they like me, but they loved you. They're doing it for you."

The damp of the grass was seeping through his jeans. "Fiona is so proud of both Becky and Daniel." He swallowed. "So am I. We never forget we owe our family to you. We owe my life to you."

He shifted again. Becky was walking back toward him, clearly thinking it was time for him to go home. Wilson looked at the modest headstone. The left-hand side read, "Gregory House, M.D., 1959 – 2040." The empty space on the right side of the stone and of the grave awaited Cuddy's ashes, when the time came.

"My daughter wants me to go now. But I'll be back soon for good, House. Only a few weeks, I think. No beating the cancer this time." He shook his head and smiled, remembering many debates about God and the afterlife over scotch or beer, on the couch in House's apartment. They seemed to do less of that, after they were married. It was funny how kids and the day-to-day absorption of family life made those big questions less important. "I know you didn't believe in it," Wilson reminded his silent friend, "but I believe I will see you again." Wilson rubbed the tears away. "Well, until then."

"I hope you said hi to Uncle Greg, for me," Rebecca said. She stooped down and offered her arm to Wilson. "Ready to go home, Dad?" she asked.

"Yeah. Your mother will be worrying." He got to his feet, steadied himself, and let her help him down the tree-shaded walk back to the car.


End file.
